The startle reflex is the most shit outcome of PTSD—where if you're triggered you go into "Cartoon hole in the wall" phase where, if you could, you would punch through a wall to escape leaving a silhouette void where brick once was. I had an hearing test to see if my startle reflex as more acute because I have greater hearing sensitivity and it turned I both did and did not—a Schrodinger's cat reaction. My hearing is poorer because one ear drum has a saggy hole in it from age and abuse but my hearing is more sensitive because my wounded brain listens for threats and if I hear something likely to trigger flight fight my brain devotes resources to listening for tiny noises in case it's a sabre-tooth tiger headed for my cave. It is deeply fucked up. It is deeply fucked up to be scared by a fart which happened the other day. It was a pair of connected rooms, I did not hear the person enter the other room and when they farted I screamed "JESUS FUCKING FUCK:."What does this mean? Well more therapy, exposure therapy no less, getting used to loud and unpleasant noises and breaking them from the visceral lizard brain reaction to grab a weapon and get ready to run. It's disconcerting to see your hand spasm for want of something to hurt something with like fucking alien hand syndrome. I cooked off after the test and had to sate with pills, vodka and Diet Coke and CBT to against the dark eating my head. There is a benefit of PTSD; but mostly it's "Fuck, PTSD sucks; how can I make that suck less for other people with PTSD?". My angry son once threatened to clap at me. He holds the power to cause me ill just by making noise. Do you know how hard it is to parent when your kid can destroy you with mere volume? It's like if Superman had a super Kryptonite-immune son who had a necklace of Kryptonite. Sounds, the bad kind, are my Kryptonite. Perhaps the therapy will make it less so. Here's hoping; living in a world where normal sound can scare you is not living—it's existing between scary sounds.